


Reason enough

by OrphanText



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1541141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Greg has tentacles, Mycroft just wants them, and there is no consensus to where anything is going at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reason enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [General_Button](https://archiveofourown.org/users/General_Button/gifts).



> Unbeta-ed, un-grammar checked, author has no idea where this is going or what is going on at all except that I really want to annoy Buttons with this. Mistakes abound. I'm also crap at writing smut this was a bad idea.
> 
> The alternative was Moriarty with Tentacles!Greg and torture for no reason, but I don't have a good incentive for putting that up.

Mycroft greedily milks his lover, drinking in every moan and shudder, the gasps falling freely from his lips, the hot fluids flowing over his fingers. Greg arches, and he sees the tip of a tentative curl slide past the soft folds of skin to taste the air.

 

To say that he was an opportunistic man is to say that the ocean was damp. While Greg was sprawled on the bed, chest heaving as he gulped down lungfuls of air, he reached greedily for the curl, thin, slender, pink, and felt triumphed when it curled around his offered finger gently.

 

"Stop that," Greg grunted from the direction of the headboard.

 

The tentacle held his finger in a gentle grip, and he petted it, stroking lightly along the soft skin. It was marvelous, really. And there, another was peeking out of the fold now, questing. He knew he kept his nails short and neatly filed for a reason. After all, he learned from experience that Greg’s extra appendages were highly sensitive to pain (as well as pleasure, which was something he enjoyed learning very much). Touching the tip of the other tentacle as well, he smiled as it seized his finger immediately, and not for the first time felt immensely glad that no one else got to see and touch his Gregory in this manner.

 

“I said,” Greg cleared his throat from the direction of the headboard. “Stop that. Guys. I need a break.”

 

Of course his lover would have other ideas, but since when did that stop him? So, it was to a litany of grumbles and curses that he was sure Greg didn’t sincerely mean that he coaxed the rest of the tentacles to come out of where they usually resided away from unneeded friction and stimulation.

 

“You’re beautiful,” Mycroft murmured, voice syrupy thick, carefully stroking the very active, very curious tentacles now wrapped around his hand, some curling themselves around Greg’s cock, trying to persuade him back into hardness, movement slow and unhurried. “Even if you believe that you are hideous because society believes it to be so.”

 

The body beneath him shifted, a flush covering Greg’s face and chest. “You’re embarrassing me,” Greg mumbled into his hands a moment later, body slightly curled inwards in mortification.

 

“Embarrassing you?” Mycroft frowned, clever hands gently teasing the tentacles, who were so delightfully responsive. He turned the idea about in a small part of his mind, and found it entirely repulsive. “I would never do that, Gregory. What am I doing is cherishing you.” He sweeps a hand upwards towards the man’s chest, fingers spread, marvelling at the feel of hard muscles beneath the layer of fat and tanned skin, so very unlike his own. “Am I doing something wrong?” He trailed his hand lightly back down to knead Lestrade’s thigh, thumb massaging the crease between thigh and hip.

 

Greg made an indecipherable sound into the pillow that he had grabbed. “...no,” he eventually did manage, looking terribly red in the face.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Mycroft hummed, and then moved upwards to kiss Greg, hand never moving far from Greg’s abdomen since he had his hand in a rather tight grip. The pillow was in the way, but proved to be a problem easily remedied. His lover’s skin was feverish to the touch, Greg refusing to meet his eyes, but remaining open and receptive to his kiss, keeping it slow, demanding nothing. He drew away, watching as Greg cast his gaze away again, and smiled at him when the man looked back at the plastic click of a cap being popped open.

 

“I can’t go another round again,” he said.

 

“We’re not.” Mycroft handed Greg the opened bottle, and extended a palm towards him when his lover had hold of it, nodding. “Its doesn’t have to be about sex.”

 

Greg glanced at him, and whatever he read in Mycroft’s expression was enough to tip the hand holding the bottle, carefully pouring out a moderate amount of lube, before he capped the bottle and set it aside. As Mycroft warmed the lube in his hand, Greg shuffled himself into a more upright position, propping himself against the plush pillows and pulling the bedsheets towards him in a move that Mycroft recognizes as him being shy and / or nervous.

 

“People watch it all the time.” Greg mumbles, cheeks pink, and shivers delightfully when Mycroft runs a thumb over the tip of a longer tentacle. “Tentacle porn, I mean.” He added helpfully when Mycroft volunteered nothing—not even an expression.

 

“And do you?” Mycroft looks at him serenely, carefully spreading lube on his hand, warming it up.

 

“No! I was just curious. No one would talk about it with me. I had no basis for research… so… “ Greg trailed off. “It wasn’t enlightening, nor enriching.”

 

Mycroft merely slanted him a look from beneath his lashes. “I doubt that the pornography industry ever will be,” he sighed, and then reached for the tentacles with his lube slicked hand after carefully easing the other free of Greg’s tight grasp. Greg twitched visibly once as lube was drizzled over the seeking tentacles, and then moaned softly as they sensed the heat of Mycroft’s hand, and began slicking themselves up by rubbing against Mycroft’s soft hand. It was nearly ticklish, but for Greg, he knew the sensation was pleasurable. The tentacles did tend to dry out easily, after all, for some reason.

 

They seemed almost drunk, wrapping lazily around Mycroft’s fingers, rubbing between the crevices and the sensitive pads of his fingers, leaving behind trails of glistening moisture. Greg only groaned, legs pulling up, curling and uncurling his toes, pressing a hand over the thousand thread count sheets to anchor himself.

 

Once Mycroft felt that the tentacles had been thoroughly lubricated, he withdrew his hand, much easier now that they were slick and slippery, patting them as they waved in the air, seeking to regain the lost contact. Greg huffed a quiet whine, pressing a hand just above to where they were, the skin turning white from the pressure.

 

“I love you,” Mycroft murmured, covering Greg’s hand with his own. “You never need hide from me.”

 

Greg looked down, to where the nest of tentacles was spilling out from a horizontal slit just above his cock, waving in the air like obscene pubic worms come to life surrounding his cock in place of pubic hair, rubbing and sliding against skin, as though luxuriating in the slick sensation and the slight pull of friction, sending gentle sparks down his spine into his toes.

 

“Yeah, maybe.” He dropped his head back against the pillows, turning his hand palm up to lightly touch the writhing appendages, brushing up against them and swallowing at the feeling. Mycroft was nestling up to him, a solid, warm presence at his side.

 

“You doubt me?” His lover sounded disapproving.

 

“No,” Greg said, thinking of how he looked—how he knew he looked to his previous lovers, naked and… horrifying with an alien mass of writhing flesh coloured tentacles. He turned to move closer to Mycroft, and leaned in for a kiss. “Maybe I just want to hear you say it again.”

 

“Hmm.” Mycroft hummed, and kissed him.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Because of this I've forgotten what other fics I was supposed to write... other than that one coffee shop AU and some budapest hotel thingy. //rants


End file.
